


Pleasant Falls

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [244]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 17:44:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8254753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: Off the beaten path...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Emila-Wan and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3  
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia 
> 
> To Carol
> 
> Reference:  
> [Inklings - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inklings)  
> [C. S. Lewis - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C._S._Lewis)  
> [The Road Goes Ever On (song) - Tolkien Gateway](http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/The_Road_Goes_Ever_On_\(song\))  
> [The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hitchhiker%27s_Guide_to_the_Galaxy)
> 
> Arcadian references:  
> [Autumn Rhapsody](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1798075)  
> [The Wayfarers Inn](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4209435)
> 
> Autumn in Arcadia:  
> 1) [Autumn Rhapsody](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1798075)  
> 2) [Hearth and Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2272758)  
> 3) [Sweater Weather](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4127694)  
> 4) [Autumn Kata](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4209186)  
> 5) [Copper and Chestnut](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4276161)  
> 6) [The Man in the Grey Flannel Pajamas](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4312158)  
> 7) [The Scents of Autumn](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4397102)  
> 8) [A Meal Made for Autumn](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2572997)  
> 9) [Autumn Pleasures ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4826909)

"Thank the Force it's Friday!"

Ian melted even further into the bucket seat of the THX on the ride home from Luke on Friday evening. The ragtop was down, and the breeze washed over them, providing natural air conditioning on a warm day in early autumn. The fourth week of the semester had just ended, and the first month of the school year had been as wild and woolly as ever. They were both tired from overworking and the flu shots they'd gotten the day before.

Quinn didn't take his eyes off the road but patted Ian's thigh. "Can't wait to get home, laddie."

Unfortunately, the galaxy had other ideas for them.

When they came to their off-ramp -- the Poughkeepsie exit on the Taconic Parkway -- there were orange traffic cones and the blinking lights of a detour sign waiting for them, along with a police officer directing traffic. Apparently, there was road construction going on again, so they had to take the scenic route, literally, before they could get back to Alder Run.

"At least it's better than the Vogons' hyperspace bypass," said Ian with a chuckle. "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" was one of their favorite books.

"Ah, yes. The Vogons weren't going to let a little thing like the Earth stand in the way of construction on their transportation system." Quinn smiled broadly but kept his eyes on the road; he was driving with particular care along the unfamiliar streets. "If you think that was messy, what about the fate of Alderaan, the eponym for our town of Alder Run, in a galaxy far, far away?"

A giggle-snort sounded from the passenger seat, as Ian couldn't believe that Quinn had one-upped him in the quip department tonight. He must have been more tired than he thought.

They followed the arrows for miles, annoyed at the delay when they were exhausted, but interested in seeing places they'd never been to before. Fortunately, although the sun set before 7 o'clock these days, there was still light in the sky until about 7:10. So they still had about fourteen minutes left of good visibility left, a lucky thing in these strange surroundings.

They drove through a village called Pleasant Falls, which lived up to its name, what with its forested land, autumn's lavish brush just touching the trees with dabs of burnt umber and raw sienna, as if Dante Gabriel Rossetti had painted them himself.

Ian's eagle eyes spotted an inn by a waterfall, 'The Pleasant Pheasant', with its namesake strutting across a sign swinging gently in the breeze. Its carriage lights shone cheerily in the dusk. Cappuccino-colored shutters adorned a cream-painted building, a lovely example of mid-twentieth century architecture.

As soon as he saw the inn, Ian softly sang some fitting verses of Bilbo Baggins in Tolkien's 'The Return of the King':

"The Road goes ever on and on  
Out from the door where it began.  
Now far ahead the Road has gone,  
Let others follow it who can!  
Let them a journey new begin,  
But I at last with weary feet  
Will turn towards the lighted inn,  
My evening-rest and sleep to meet."

Quinn joined in midway through, their tenor and baritone voices blending in an autumn rhapsody.

"Quinn, I'd love to stay here tonight. Do you have the time for it?" Ian asked with a hopeful grin.

Quinn smiled. "Sounds like a grand idea, darlin'. Plenty of time on Sunday to finish my lecture notes on C.S. Lewis."

Ian said, "You're tackling 'Out of the Silent Planet' on Monday, right?"

Quinn nodded. "And it amazes me how many of the kids had never heard of Lewis's space trilogy before I assigned the chapters."

"Although almost everyone knows his friend Tolkien's trilogy, they don't have an 'inkling' about Lewis's," Ian said.

Quinn uttered what he liked to think of as a 'gruckle' -- a combination of a groan and a chuckle. Ian tended to evoke that response from him a lot. This time, Ian's pun was based on 'inkling', since Tolkien and Lewis were founders of 'The Inklings', a literary group at Oxford. He and Ian would have fit right in with its membership of men, discussing books and writers in a cozy pub.

They left the THX in the parking lot at the rear of the building and went inside. An elderly woman with Coke-bottle glasses behind the reception desk beckoned them over to her.

"Hello, gentlemen," she said. "How can I help you?"

"Do you happen to have a room available for tonight?" Ian asked. He was light years beyond worrying about her reaction to the two of them, all of that healthy distance spent adventuring with Quinn. "A traffic detour brought us to your delightful inn, and we couldn't pass up the chance of staying here, if it's possible." Ian was at his most charming, which was to say irresistible to anyone, and devastating to Quinn.

"You came at the right time -- we only have one room left, because a guest cancelled a couple of hours ago." She smiled at them. "Things have a way of working out, young man. I'm Mrs. Dahl; welcome to the Pheasant. I hope you have a *pleasant* stay." Her green eyes twinkled; apparently, this was an 'inn-side' quip she loved to share.

The men chuckled in appreciation; they already felt comfortable here.

Ian said, "Thank you, ma'am. This is my husband Quinn Masterson, and I'm Ian Prentice, but there's no need to stand on ceremony. It's just Quinn and Ian."

"And my name is Noori," she said graciously. "The room is on the first floor. Will that be all right with you?"

Quinn said, "It will be fine."

Noori gave them two silver keys -- no keycards here -- and checked them in using an old-fashioned hotel register. She was thoughtful enough to give them a packet of amenities -- toothbrushes and disposable razors, along with miniature samples of deodorant and toothpaste. "A full breakfast is included, and you can have dinner until 9 pm."

Ian looked at his watch; it was 7:07 now. He didn't want them to overstay their welcome in the dining room. "Glad to hear it; we haven't eaten yet."

"Good," said Noori. "We have some seasonal specials I'm sure you'll enjoy."

"We'll see you soon," Quinn said, then waved as they headed to Room 4, which turned out to be on the side of the inn facing the waterfall.

Their room was decorated in cool shades of blue and green, and boasted a king-sized bed with aquamarine and navy-blue bedclothes. Mahogany nightstands bracketed it, with a matching dresser facing the bed. Two easy chairs sat by the window, so guests could gaze at the falls indoors, if they didn't want to use the bench on the terrace. The only modern touch was a flatscreen TV sitting on the dresser.

Quinn opened the windows, bringing in the cool autumn air, then toed off his shoes and plopped down on the bed, letting his lad use the facilities first. By the time Ian had washed his face and relieved himself, Quinn was dozing.

Strolling out to the terrace, Ian used his cell phone to call Mrs. Chang and tell her about their overnight plans. They had each other's key, so she volunteered to take Artoo and Sandy to stay with them until their dads came home. Thanking her profusely, he hung up and closed the sliders after him.

Ian heard a snore and grinned at the sight of an adorable sleeping Quinn. He'd managed to take up the entire king bed, his arms and legs seeming to go on forever, just like Tolkien's Road. Ian was reluctant to wake him up but didn't want to impose on Mrs. Dahl's hospitality by keeping the dining room open too late. He had the feeling that they'd be the last ones at dinner as it was.

He strolled over to the bed and sat down on the edge, pondering how to rouse his husband gently. Ian ran a tender hand through chestnut hair, lingering over the waves. Quinn hummed for him, then pressed into his lad's palm when Ian cupped his cheek. Ian kissed a bump on his herven's nose and couldn't resist brushing it with his thumb.

Quinn's eyelids were starting to flutter; he would wake up any second. Ian decided to make that awakening count -- he kissed his husband lightly on the lips. That was enough to do it. Quinn's eyes cracked open, and a big smile graced his face when he saw Ian as close as a breath to him.

"Top of the evenin' to you, m'lad," Quinn said, his brogue at its most pronounced right after sleep. So saying, he pulled Ian into his arms for a kiss for which he was thoroughly awake.

"Mmmm," was all Ian could muster after being properly kissed.

Quinn chuckled. "Now that's the way to wake up, laddie mine." He looked at the clock on the nightstand. "It's already 7:24. We'd best get over to the dining room before it's too late."

Ian reluctantly agreed. "Yeah, Mrs. Dahl probably wants to close up shop by 9." He stopped Quinn from sitting up, though. "Not quite yet," Ian said, pushing his luck. "Just one more kiss, okay?" His eyes sparkled from the excitement of their negotiations.

"Oh, Ian. You're asking the impossible, making me stop at just one, but somehow I'll manage to do it." So saying, Quinn cupped Ian's jaw, thumb slyly dipping into his dimple, and pulled his herven towards him. He knew he had to make this count, because he probably wouldn't get another kiss until they were back in the room after eating.

Quinn couldn't resist a peck on Ian's nose first, then he kissed his lad's lips, delighted to find they were still succulent, since Ian had washed his face just a couple of minutes ago. He kissed Ian tenderly, with his love shining through, as always.

"Mmmmm, laddie. Who needs dinner after one of your kisses?" Quinn murmured into Ian's dimple.

Ian could tell it was a rhetorical question, even before Quinn's stomach rumbled on cue. He gave a low laugh and said, "I can just hear that, ma gradh." He pulled Quinn up into his strong arms, and they got out of bed.

Quinn used the bathroom, while Ian gazed at the waterfall, which was lit by a rainbow of lights. When Quinn was ready, they headed to dinner. The dining room was down the hall from the reception desk, and a young lady was there to greet them and show them to their table by a picture window. She gave them a menu, just for tonight, that was hand-written with a calligraphic flair. As they had predicted, the room was almost empty, with two tables of guests finishing their meal when they sat down.

They had a different view of the waterfall from here, but it looked just as majestic as from their own room. The inn was so near to the falls that even with the window mostly closed against the chilly night air, they could still hear the sound of rushing water. The woman came back to take their order and introduced herself as Bonny Dahl, the daughter of the innkeeper. She brought with her a basket of piping hot sourdough rolls and garlic butter, along with iced water.

Mulled apple cider with Drambuie and a splash of cranberry juice was their choice of an additional beverage. Mushroom soup with a crust of Fontina cheese sounded too good to pass up. For their entrees, Ian decided to have the stuffed flounder with roasted root vegetables, while Quinn had the chicken pot pie, both highly recommended by Bonny, who shared the kind manner of her mother.

"My mom just finished making the crust a couple of hours ago," she said, and she could practically hear their stomachs rumble.

"Well, laddie, it looks as if we'll have ourselves an unexpected party," said Quinn, deliberately quoting the title of the first chapter of 'The Hobbit'.

Ian winked at him in delight. "Didn't think I'd ever say this, but for once I'm grateful for a traffic detour. We would never have found this place without it." He took a bite of his sourdough roll and hummed his appreciation.

Quinn said, "And remember, our finding The Wayfarers Inn years ago was also a surprise." He finished eating his second roll.

They'd been riding their bicycles on a path miles from home, had seen the Victorian 'Painted Lady', and decided that they wanted to stay there on impulse, exactly like they'd done now, with the 'Pheasant'.

Bonny brought over their cider, which had just the right tartness to complement a beautiful autumnal evening. She smiled when she saw that they had already decimated the rolls; she'd be sure to let her mother the baker know that the guests loved them.

"Would you like some more bread, gentlemen?" she asked.

Both of them shook their heads, knowing that there was a feast yet to come.

Quinn raised his glass in a toast, "To a grand October!" Before he took a sip, he sat back in his upholstered chair.

Ian clinked mugs with him and said, "And to a goodly stock of Drambuie to cheer us through our weekends."

Both of them chuckled, already mellowing out after a week of classes and meetings. They relaxed into their chairs, anticipating their meal. When they were halfway through the cider, Bonny came by with their soup.

"So glad we were too busy to eat after lunch," Ian said.

Quinn nodded. "I'm ravenous," he said, then blew on his first spoonful of soup.

"You're always ravenous." Ian laughed. "After all, there's a lot of you to fill up," he teased.

Quinn's laugh blended with his herven's. "That there is, Ian." His laughter turned to bliss when he tasted the soup, especially since he had a hobbit's affinity for mushrooms. "Ah, the best way to start a meal in autumn."

They finished the soup while it was still warm and looked out at the waterfall while waiting for their next course. The rainbow lights illuminating it were still on, and they were even more impressive in full darkness. The Living Force was all around Quinn and Ian, what with the gushing waters, the owls and the crickets, as well as the hundreds of trees and bushes dotting the nightscape surrounding them.

By now, the dining room was empty, except for the professors, so they impulsively reached for each other's hand across the table. And that completed the Living Force connection. The prismatic colors made it even more of a celebration for them. They lost track of time, until they heard Bonny coming towards them, her heels clacking on the wooden floor.

She brought their entrees with her, and they looked completely scrumptious. As Ian had said to Quinn memorably at the Tolkien symposium in 2003, where they had fallen in love, "The food on your plate tastes better." So the first thing Quinn did was to put a generous portion of his pot pie on Ian's plate, while Ian returned the favor and gave Quinn some of his fish and vegetables -- one of their favorite Arcadian traditions.

"Wow, this crust tastes just like Gran's used to," Ian raved. That was his highest compliment; even though it had been over 20 years since he had been privileged to eat one of her pies, his tastebuds still remembered.

Quinn just had to try it after Ian's rave review, and when he did, his eyes closed in true bliss. "Now that's heavenly," he said. Usually, he and Ian didn't bother with the crust, since it was so rarely first-rate, but Mrs. Dahl's was obviously an exception.

There was hardly any talking for the next fifteen minutes as they concentrated on their blended meals. Just what they'd needed after a day with too much work and too little food. When they surfaced from their 'feditation', Ian looked at the pocket watch Quinn had given him for their 10th anniversary last October; it was 8:28, giving them just enough time to squeak in a sweet treat before the kitchen closed for the night.

Bonny came over to clear their plates and to bring them tiny dessert menus. It turned out to be an easy decision: a slice of spice cake with vanilla icing to share, along with two mugs of hot buttered rum. Ian yawned while they were waiting for the cake.

Quinn patted his hand. "We'll be all tucked up in bed soon, little laddie."

"Sounds like heaven," said Ian.

Luckily, their rum and cake came only a few minutes later. Bonny put the cake in the center of the table and gave each man a fork. If autumn had a flavor, spice cake was it, especially since the icing had four pieces of candy corn garnishing it. Ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg blended into one sublime taste, and their drinks complemented it.

When Bonny brought the bill, Ian added it to their tab, then they thanked her and headed over to their room. Toeing off their shoes, they kicked them to the side of the door, so they wouldn't trip over them. They took turns using the facilities and brushing their teeth.

Even though the men felt like just throwing off their clothing, they knew that they'd have to wear it tomorrow, so they hung it in the closet, inside out to let it air overnight. Quinn made sure to leave the closet door open, too, for maximum effect. They also left their socks spread out, their argyle pattern of brown and tan a nice contrast to the navy-blue carpet. That left them wearing just their boxer-briefs, so they dove under the covers to keep warm. They curled into each other, said their goodnights, and were asleep in a couple of minutes.

* * *

The next morning at a little after 8 o'clock, Quinn woke first, as usual. He stretched, since sometime in the middle of the night, Ian had colonized the right edge of the bed, freeing his arms and legs to flex. The rustling of the sheets was enough to wake Ian anyway; they shared a slow smile and a good-morning kiss, mouths a bit sour from sleeping despite last night's tooth-brushing.

"Hey, handsome. Did you sleep well?" Ian asked.

"Like a total log," Quinn said. "And you?"

"Just call me Woody," Ian quipped.

Quinn rumbled, "I'm looking forward to savoring that 'wood' in the shower, my not-so-little lad."

Ian chuckled. "That can be arranged. Be back in a few." He headed to the bathroom for his morning rituals, performing them quicker than usual, in anticipation of what was to come.

Quinn rested on the bed, waiting for his turn, this time not falling asleep but imagining the delights that awaited them. When Ian returned, he knew he could call Mrs. Chang, since she was an early riser. So while Quinn used the facilities, he asked after her and her husband, as well as Sandy and Artoo.

As soon as he heard the shower start, Ian took off his boxer-briefs, shaking them out and leaving them on the fitted sheet. The cascading water blended with the rushing of the waterfall for a unique sound. Opening the sky-blue curtain, he joined Quinn under the spray for a very wet kiss and had the wonderful sensation of feeling himself and his husband hardening while they kissed. Fortunately, there was a rubber mat in the bathtub, so they would have good traction for their lovemaking. When they were standing in each other's arms like this, their height disparity made it easy for Ian to slip his erection between Quinn's thighs for some intercrural stimulation. Ian grunted at the feel of warm, soft skin caressing him, especially when Quinn pressed his legs closer together for a snug fit.

Quinn petted all of the skin he could reach, a considerable amount, while he listened to his herven in full song -- moans, sighs, and groans -- as Ian worked his hips for maximum pleasure. Ian's breathing sped up with his hips, giving Quinn notice that he had to kiss Ian *now*, so that they would be kissing while he came. That was hard to do, though; Ian was poetry in motion and as elusive as the perfect word, sliding and shivering in Quinn's arms.

As soon as their lips touched, Ian let go, and creamy streamers decorated their thighs for a blissful moment, before they were washed away by the water. Quinn steadied Ian and himself, and hugged his fhear-cheile (husband) tight.

When Ian could speak again, he said, "Wow, that was fantastic, ma gradh. Thank you."

"My pleasure, lad, literally," said Quinn, flexing his hips so Ian could feel his erection against his stomach.

"What can I do for you?" Ian asked, his voice softer than a whisper.

Quinn had to close his eyes to regain control. "Ah, could you take me in hand, love?"

Luckily, Quinn didn't see Ian's eyes gleaming up at him, or the fun would've been over fast. Ian positioned him against the tiles, so Quinn would have some support when he needed it. His left hand, callused from the high bar and rings, held him in the perfect grip. Ian's fingers could not go all the way around Quinn's cock, but the skin he did touch felt like durasteel anyway, as Quinn pushed into his hand.

"Laddie," Quinn breathed.

The sound of his husband's voice almost made Ian hard again; he channeled all of that erotic energy into touching Quinn. He brought his other hand into play and teased the head with his thumb, running his nail gently around the foreskin. Quinn trembled in delight. Ian petted his balls with teasing fingertips, knowing exactly the degree of firmness needed for maximum pleasure.

"Like this, do ya?" Ian crooned, sensing that his herven was about to explode.

Quinn couldn't form an answer, so Ian reached up for a kiss. He was just in time, since Quinn came into his palm in staccato pulses. He steadied Quinn against the tiles as he held him.

Total bliss-out for two.

"That was grand, m'lad," Quinn said, voice rough and low. He kissed Ian again, this time long and lingering.

As soon as they simmered down, they washed thoroughly and wrapped themselves in cobalt-blue towels. After making love, they were ravenous again, despite the big meal they'd eaten last night. Quinn dabbed at a droplet of water running down Ian's chest. They gave each other what could only be called besotted grins and started to put their clothes on. Turning their underwear and socks inside out to get fresh fabric against their skin, they dressed quickly.

They couldn't resist a quick kiss before they headed out the door to the dining room. The patio was open this morning, so they decided to eat outdoors. A couple of tables around them were taken on such a beautiful morning, when the waterfall was dazzling in the sunshine. They had to talk slightly louder than usual to be heard over the rushing water. This time, Mrs. Dahl was their waitress.

"Good morning, Noori. Your daughter is a sweet lass," Quinn said, as Ian grinned at her in agreement, when she walked over with their breakfast menus and water glasses.

She beamed at them. "Thank you. She enjoyed taking care of you both at dinner." She pointed at the hand-written specials. "I recommend the blueberry pancakes; Bonny makes them light and fluffy."

"Well, you've convinced me," Ian said, handing her his menu.

"Me, too," added Quinn, following suit.

"Well, that's easy enough," said Mrs. Dahl. "And to drink?"

They ordered pineapple juice, with cappuccinos to come near the end of the meal. Quinn pulled his chair around next to Ian's at the round table, so both of them had a clear view of the waterfall.

"Ah, 'tis a thing of beauty, laddie." Quinn put his arm over Ian's shoulders, warming him up on a cool autumn day.

"Check-out's at noon, so we have plenty of time after breakfast. What would you like to do?" Ian asked.

Quinn pointed to a wooded trail to the right of the falls. "How 'bout a stroll?"

"Sounds nice. Let's do it." Ian grinned at Mrs. Dahl when she gave them their glasses of juice.

"This is the first time we'll be hiking in our button-down shirts and slacks for teaching," Quinn said.

"Talk about over-dressed!" Ian chuckled. "Well, at least we have our Clarks on." He was heartily glad they had invested in comfortable dress shoes.

They were silent for a few minutes, just watching the gleam of the sun on the never-ending water. The gushing sound lulled them to a near-doze. But they perked up as soon as their pancakes came. They were made with buttermilk, and the blueberries were spooned over them.

"Mmmmm. They're tart," Quinn said in happy surprise. "It's easy to add too much sugar."

"Oh, this is delicious," Ian agreed.

They concentrated on eating while the pancakes were still warm, scooping up blueberries with their spoons and eating them with bite-size bits of pancake. After they finished, Quinn put the meal on their tab, and they sat at the table a little longer. Then they went inside to use the public restroom in the hallway. They left the inn with a wave to Mrs. Dahl and headed out to the forest path.

Instantly, it felt 10 degrees cooler under the shade of the trees. The abundance and variety of the life around them made Quinn's spirit sing. The Living Force permeated the very air they breathed. He grabbed his lad's hand, and they strode up the trail. Majestic oak and maple trees surrounded them, with their seasonal cloaks of reddish brown and burnt gold. An occasional rustle in the ground cover heralded the arrival of little forest residents -- hedgehogs, chipmunks, badgers, and woodchucks. Birds flew by on errands of their own.

Despite the lack of privacy, thanks to their animal friends, the men stopped for a kiss in the dappled shade of a clearing.

"Mmmmm. This is almost as invigorating as when we made love." Quinn pressed his lips to Ian's forehead.

"Yeah," said Ian dreamily. "You really *showered* me with affection." He soon found out what a groan sounded like when it mingled with Quinn pecking him on the nose. Now that was an adorable sound!

Keeping his arms around Ian, Quinn said, "I love being here. It has a bit of an Elven feel."

Ian nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised to see Glorfindel come riding towards us."

"Well, his horse would help us make it back to the inn in time for our check-out," Quinn said.

Ian looked at his pocket watch and whistled. "Wow, it's almost eleven o'clock already. Didn't realize we'd been hiking that long."

"Yes, we'd best start back now," said Quinn reluctantly. The clearing had a sparkle of Elven magic about it that was hard to find in their current age.

They headed back faster than they had walked before, reaching the inn at 11:38. Making straight for their room, they opened the windows to air it out and cleaned it up a bit to help their hostesses. They remembered to get their teaching blazers from the closet and put them on, which reminded them to turn off the air conditioning. Then they left a tip for the ladies, closed the windows, and locked the door after themselves.

They walked to the front desk, with Bonny on duty this time, so they gave her their keys, and Ian paid the bill with his MasterGuard.

"How was your stay, gentlemen?" she asked.

"We loved it," Ian answered, while Quinn's smile seconded his husband's comment.

"It was a pleasure having you," Bonny said.

They said their goodbyes, waved farewell, and headed for the THX. Already this fall had brought them unexpected feasts and adventures.

It was autumn in Arcadia, indeed.

Quinn softly began to sing, knowing his lad would join him:

"Roads go ever ever on  
Under cloud and under star,  
Yet feet that wandering have gone  
Turn at last to home afar."


End file.
